Page 92 of Give Me a Sign
He shrugs and takes a step backward. Did he hear me?
I put my fingers to the side of my head. “The cochlear implant?”
“Yeah,” he says, knocking his hand forward to sign “yes.” “Mom and Dad want me to get it.”
I dig my heels into the ground. That’s exactly what I was worried about. “Doyouwant it, though?”
He shrugs again. “I need to be able to hear, don’t I?”
Max is only eleven. He’s still a kid. Of course he’s going to do whatever our parents want him to do, especially if a doctor has lectured him on how this is a way for him to have a “normal” life. What kid doesn’t want to be normal?
“There are other ways, though,” I say. “You can stick with your hearing aids and learn sign instead.”
“Nah, that won’t work.” He signs, “No, no, no.”
I grin, shaking my head. “See, you’re learning it! It will help.”
“It won’t.” He looks away from me and walks toward his friends sitting in a circle on the grass.
I follow and tap his arm so he looks at me again. “Why not?”
“ ’Cause I can’t remember it! And no one uses it outside camp.” He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why I’m even bringing it up.
“You’ll practice,” I reassure him. “We can all learn and use it together as a family.”
“I talk to other people. Like at school. How would I sign to them? They wouldn’t learn.”
“You don’t know that.”
But I do. I get why he’s angry, enough so that I can ignore his cheap insult. Maybe his friends would learn a handful of words, or at least Google some swear words for a laugh. Heck, maybe their parents would sign them up for an ASL class. But would the kids actually stick with it? Since they’d expect the boy with hearing loss to lip-read anyway.
I guess studying a new language can be a lot to ask of people. I understand why they might think it’s too much effort—butthis makes it feel like their lack of interest in learning is really a lack of interest in you.
I tap Max’s arm again. He shrugs me off but at least turns back to face me.
I tilt my head as I speak. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to have the surgery if you don’t want to.”
“But I have to.” He clenches his teeth, annoyed by my persistence.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. You don’t understand,” he says, scowling at me.
“Why wouldn’t I understand?”
“Because we’re not the same.” He crosses his arms and looks away again. “Because I’m more deaf than you!”
He’s got the same look I’d seen on Natasha countless times. If Max had shouted this at me even a few weeks ago, it would have cut deep. I reach out and grab his shoulders, turning him back to me.
“Hey. We are in the same boat. Yes, your hearing loss is a little bit more severe than mine, but not much. We still go through the same exact things. We’re in the same family. You’re going to the same schools with many of the same teachers I’ve had before. I’m your older sister, so I’m the one who has to struggle through everything first. You get to learn from my mistakes and benefit from the fact that I’ve already educated some people in our lives along the way.”
He rolls his eyes, but he unfolds his arms. “Fine.”
“Promise me you’ll think about this. It’s okay if you want one. Really. I only want to make sure it’s your decision.”
“I said fine.”
He’s several feet away from me now, and I know I won’t have his attention much longer.
